


Sick Day

by killerweasel



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerweasel/pseuds/killerweasel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hermann gets sick, Newt takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Day

Title: Sick Day  
Fandom: _Pacific Rim_  
Characters: Hermann Gottlieb/Newton Geiszler  
Word Count: 1,985  
Rating: PG-13  
A/N: AU before the events of _Pacific Rim_  
Warnings: n/a  
Summary: When Hermann gets sick, Newt takes care of him.  
A/N: written for [geniusbee](http://geniusbee.tumblr.com/).

“You don’t need to follow me to my room, Newton.” Hermann tried to walk faster, but had to stop to blow his nose, allowing Newt to catch up with him again.

“I want to make sure you actually go to bed.” Newt crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re sick as a dog, Hermann. And knowing you, you’ll sneak back to the lab to do more maths even if you pass out along the way.”

Hermann jabbed at Newt with his cane. Newt dodged it easily, sticking his tongue out. “Are you sure you’re not referring to yourself? I seem to remember a certain Kaiju biologist who had to be escorted by medical technicians when he refused to stop fooling around with a spleen while suffering with the flu.”

“That was only once and they wouldn’t have even been there if you hadn’t tattled on me.” They’d reached the door to Hermann’s room. “Let me just give you a hand and then I’ll get out of your hair. Okay? You need to rest or this will get worse.”

He opened his door with a sigh. “Fine. But you leave when I tell you to.”

“Yeah, yeah. Where are your pajamas?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going to sleep in that, are you?” Newt gestured at Hermann’s clothes. He walked over to the dresser. “Which drawer?”

“The second one down.” Hermann walked over to his bed, smothering another coughing fit with his hand. He was feeling increasingly horrible with each passing minute.

"Hermann, you have old man pajamas." Newt pulled them from the drawer. "At least they look comfortable." He ran his hand down one of the sleeves. "Oh, those are soft."

Hermann sat on the bed and made an attempt to remove his sweater vest, but he couldn't seem to muster up enough energy to do it. “Newton? Could you?” A slightly worried expression crossed Newt's face. It was there and gone so quickly Hermann thought he might have imagined it. "Not all of us wear pajamas with little Godzillas on them. Some of us have to look at least slightly dignified even while wearing sleepwear."

"Dude, don't mock my pj's. They are awesome and it was very hard to find them in my size." Once Newt managed to get the sweater vest off, he worked on unbuttoning Hermann's shirt. "No wonder you're so hot, you've got like six layers of clothing on. Do you have to get up an hour earlier than everyone else just to get dressed?"

Hermann rolled his eyes. He was fairly certain he could handle the rest of his clothing himself. There was no need for any more of Newt's assistance. "Newton, you shouldn't be around me. You're going to catch what I have." Hermann blew his nose on yet another tissue. It was as if he were a never-ending container of mucus. It shouldn't even be possible for the human body to contain so much snot, should it? He made a mental note to ask Newt about it when he felt better. If anyone knew exactly how much goop a body usually had, it would be Newt.

"First of all, I started increasing my vitamin C intake when people began getting this a couple weeks ago. Secondly, I brought my industrial strength hand-sanitizer with me from the lab to scrub my hands with. If that stuff is good enough to deal with Kaiju bits, it can certainly handle Hermann's cold." Newt glanced at Hermann's bare chest for a moment. "And third, if I get sick, I know you'll take care of me."

Newt helped Hermann slip into the top of his pajamas. He did up the buttons because Hermann's fingers were shaking too much. Hermann had a coughing fit that resulted in him almost doubling over while trying to catch his breath. Newt kept one hand on Hermann's chest and the other on his back. Hermann was a bit horrified to realize he actually enjoyed the feel of Newt's hands on his body. He decided to blame it on the fever and not to dwell on such things for now.

"Uh... Do you want help with your pants too or do you think you can do those on your own?" Newt ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even higher. "I'll get your shoes and socks while you think about it."

"Ugh, my nose hurts." Hermann dabbed his nose as gently as he could with a tissue. "Everything hurts. I hate this."

"No one likes being sick, Hermann." Newt set the shoes on the floor and tossed the socks in a nearby hamper. "So... pants?"

"There's absolutely no way to do this without it being weird, is there?" Hermann struggled with the button and zipper, but managed to get them both undone.

"I could make it even more awkward if you want." Newt arched a brow and began to make noises with his mouth. It took Hermann a little bit to realize the sounds were music found in adult films. He shot Newt a venomous look as he shimmied out of his trousers. "Come on, Hermann, that was funny."

"That was the worst porno music I've ever heard, Newton." As Hermann stood up, his pants fell to the floor. He braced a hand on the wall as he stepped out of them. Newt had gone very quiet. Hermann frowned. Then he realized what Newt was looking at. Newt's eyes were focused on the large web of scars running from Hermann’s knee up to his hip. The worst of them were still covered by his boxers, but he knew how unpleasant the rest looked.

"Oh." Newt flushed as he looked away. "Sorry, I just... I've never seen them before."

"Can you hand me the rest of my pajamas?" Hermann fought to keep from trying to cover any of the scars with his hands. He could feel himself starting to tense up and took a deep breath. "I know how ugly they are, so I would appreciate it if you kept any thoughts you have about my scars to yourself."

Newt whirled around, clutching the pajamas in his hand. "Wow. You actually think I would do something like that? Nice." He tossed the piece of clothing on the bed. "Maybe I should go."

"Wait." Hermann closed his eyes. He wasn't sure if he had the energy for this conversation. "You are the fourth person, other than various doctors, to see the scars. The others weren't exactly nice about them, asking far too many questions or saying I should keep them covered." He sat down on the bed, clutching his aching head in his hands.

The bed dipped lower as Newt sat down next to him. "Scars aren't a big deal unless you make them into one. Personally, I find them fascinating. Every scar has a story and my brain goes a million miles an hour trying to come up with theories or stories how someone got one."

He nudged Hermann with his arm. "Check this out." When Hermann looked up, Newt turned his right arm over. "You can't really see it under the ink, but you can still feel it." Grabbing Hermann's hand, Newt used Hermann's finger to trace a line by the inside of his elbow. "I fell out of a tree when I was a kid when I was trying to get my kite down. That's where I hit a branch. It was a huge mess, blood everywhere. But it healed and as soon as I could, I went back to climbing trees again. Scars are proof we survived something, Hermann. They're part of who we are, but they don't define us. Screw those other people if they couldn't understand that."

Newt shivered as Hermann's finger traced back and forth over his arm. "It's like my tattoos. Some people are never going to be able to understand why I have them or look past the ink to see who I am."

"While I don't think I would ever get one myself, I think yours are rather... artistic and very you, Newton." Hermann glanced at Newt. "My legs are getting cold. Do you think you could help with the pajama pants? And if your fingers happen to come into contact with the scars while assisting me, I don't think I'll mind."

Newt leaned over and whispered something in Hermann’s ear, causing the taller man to blush. When he pulled away, there was a smile on his face. “Let’s do this.”

Hermann slid his legs into the pants and then stood up, using the wall to keep his balance. He held very still as Newt dropped to his knees on the floor beside him. Newt ignored the pajamas, which were currently around Hermann’s ankles and instead placed his right hand just above Hermann’s knee. He traced over one of the scars with his thumb, barely touching the skin.

“I can tell you what happened.” Hermann could feel himself trembling and wasn’t sure if it was due to Newt touching his skin, the sickness, or because he actually was starting to get cold.

Newt’s fingers traveled up to the edge of Hermann’s boxers, ghosting over the twisted flesh. He sighed against the soft skin on the inside of Hermann’s knee. “You’re cold and you feel craptastic. It can wait, Hermann.” He got to his feet, grabbing the top of the pants and very carefully brought them up to Hermann’s waist. “Tell me when you’re well, okay?”

Hermann gave Newt one of his rare smiles before tugging the covers down on the bed. Newt passed him a couple of pillows so he wouldn’t be flat on his back. Newt’s eyes widened. “Hang on, I’ll be right back!” He dashed off down the hall, leaving Hermann feeling confused.

By the time he got back, Hermann was in bed with the blankets pulled up to his chest. Newt was holding something behind his back. He held out what looked like an orange plush dragon. It was clearly old and had been well-loved. “Here. You can borrow him while you’re sick. Cuddling him always makes me feel better.”

Hermann took the toy from Newt and turned it over in his hands. “He looks like he’s got a few scars of his own. Is this some sort of Kaiju?”

Newt sat down on the bed next to Hermann’s legs. “That’s Charizard. He’s a Pokémon. I’ve had him for a very long time. Most of the damage came from some bullies at school. They tore him up, but the art teacher put him back together again.”

“He’s rather soft.” Wrapping his arm around Charizard, Hermann fought to keep his eyes open. “Will you stay until I’m asleep?”

“I could stay longer if you want. It’ll be hours before the tests I was running on that stomach tissue will be finished.”

Hermann shifted his body to the right. It would be a tight squeeze, but he decided he didn’t care. “I’d like that very much, Newton.” He patted the empty space next to him. “Maybe you can tell me about some of your adventures with Charizard.”

Newt shed his shoes, socks, and pants as quickly as he could before joining Hermann under the sheets. He rolled onto his stomach, pulling a pillow under his head. “Charizard almost got us thrown out of a museum once.” Hermann snorted. “He was a terrible influence, Hermann. He talked me into trying to climb a dinosaur skeleton.”

Hermann’s laugh turned into a cough and he had to blow his nose a couple of times. “How far did you get before security caught you?”

“I was half-way up an allosaurus’ leg.”

They both laughed this time. As Newt continued to speak, Hermann began to drift off. Just as the darkness pulled him under, Hermann realized even though he was sick, he still felt better than he had in a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: You can read about young Newt, Charizard, and the bullies over in [Stitches](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1015764).


End file.
